Thirty-Six

A SOB escaped from Adalene as she turned to look for that familiar voice, the one who’d always been saving her.
It was Fabian, of course!
He was standing very near another tree in the dark that he was almost part of it if not for the soft light from the moon that gave away the outline of his build.
“My Lord! You’re here,” she said in a voice she tried to sound strong even though she felt weak with relief.
She restrained herself from running to him like a child. She was wary to stand up as the knight with the foul smell and mouth was still there and could still go for her.
But, oh, how she wanted his arms around her!
Fabian moved and stepped nearer, and even Adalene flinched at the cold fury simmering in his face that looked granite.
She was suddenly so grateful she was on his side and not with anyone who opposed him.
She had never seen him looking so dangerous.
She now felt afraid for the drunk knight.
From the shadows, Fabian’s other knights appeared. And then there was the pale Olivie.
How long had they been there? And why was Olivie crying?
But the Baron approached. The drunk knight stepped back.
“My Lord! I thought you would be with the Duke!” said the knight in a much clearer voice now. Clearly, whatever he saw in Fabian sobered him quickly.
“The meeting came to a close very early when I told them I cannot be arranged to someone else because I am, essentially, already married. My bride was betrothed to me just a few days ago, so I understand the misunderstanding. Even my great aunt only knew about it this night.”
“You... are married? To—”
“Lady Adalene Duvre, yes, the same lady you are trying to proposition tonight. So the lady is not jesting, Sir Benoit. As she told you, she is indeed a Baron’s wife and not a courtesan.”
Adalene heard, and she stared. She could not believe what he was saying. Or was he just buying them time?
The knight blabbered for a few moments, clearly upset.
She could understand his predicament, even as intoxicated as he was. The Baron’s voice held so much ice and threat on it.
“I did not mean... I didn’t know... Veronique said...” the knight continued to stammer, clearly overwhelmed as each consequence of his action tonight started to unravel in his head.
Sir Yves and the other knight, Sir Thibaut, approached Sir Benoit. “Rest assured that if you have harmed the lady, you will have three knights plus the Baron defending her honor, Benoit,” said Sir Thibaut. Then he turned to the Baron. “What do you propose we do, my Lord?”
“He will not fight. Right now, he’s about ready to faint.”
Sir Thibault faced the drunk knight and took his sword out of its scabbard. Promptly, the other man melted down to his knees and started crying.
The other knights tried not to make a sound as they hid the twitch on their lips.
Adalene was dismayed as she watched.
It seemed like she was never in any danger. She was just so scared, but she could have fought this man even as awkward as it would have been with her dress.
“Off you go before we change our minds and we consider this more your fault than your cousin’s,” the Baron's voice cut through the piteous sniveling.
“But I... I... of course!” The knight shot to his feet and threw her one look before he scurried out of the garden like an overgrown rat.
“We have to go,” Fabian told her as he finally walked towards her as she tried to recover from being an embarrassing heap on the ground.
He helped her up with just one pull, and his hand remained on her waist as she turned to face him.
“We’re riding out tonight.”
She blinked in confusion. “But why?” she asked, then was dismayed. “Are you angry with me, my Lord?” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, but I did not mean to disobey you. I only meant to take a walk and I didn’t realize—”
But he was suddenly frowning so hard. “Adalene! You’re bleeding! Did he hurt you? Had he—”
“No,” she replied as a hand reached up to check the wetness she felt where his eyes were looking. “I tried to get away and I hit the side of the cherubim statue because it was dark on that spot. But I’m alright, really... it is just a small wound.”
“Had he touched you?” His voice was very cold.
“No.” She almost rolled her eyes, remembering now with a clearer head how the knight Benoit moved. “He tried but he was drunk. I was able to get away. But if you hadn’t c-come...” she thought about how, since she had fallen, the other man could have taken advantage. Her lips trembled.
His arms went around her, and her lips were crushed under his even as the knights watched, though Olivie was looking on the ground.
She couldn’t feel scared anymore with his arms around her and his lips kissing her so hard, as if he was assuaging his worry with it.
He raised his head and his look was intense as he pinned her to him with a strong arm.
“We’re going back to the Manor.”
The others had started to walk back. “He did not touch me, I swear. If he’s going to run to them and tell them, it isn’t true at all. Olivie must have seen it. She could tell them,” she told him as they, too, started walking on the pathway that would lead them out of the garden.
He shook his head. “It isn’t that. Benoit will not dare sully your reputation with false accusations.
He knew I'd kill him.”
“Fabian!” she gasped. His words were so cold and so certain. His face more so when she glanced sideways at him. “But then, why do we have to—”
“I will explain on the way. Odette is packing our things in the chambers and the Duke lends two of his carriages to our disposal so we can travel post-haste. Your wound needs to be looked at, too.”
She did not understand why they had to leave hastily, but she obeyed and kept quiet as they walked the trail back to the castle.
He looked down at her as one of his arms cradled her close to him, his handsome face showing his anger and concern. “Are you really all right?”
“I am fine, my Lord. Just a little bruised, that’s all,” she answered softly.
“*Ma bichette*, I am sorry. I should have made sure you were in our bedchambers guarded tightly before I left you,” he whispered urgently.
She shook her head as she buried her face in his chest.
That was when she finally knew she was really safe.
“It was my fault. I never should have ventured far too much into the gardens.”
“You were supposed to be with someone,” he said, his voice cold. “The knights thought Olivie was with you.”
She glanced up in surprise. “What? Why? What happened to Olivie?” she asked worriedly. She remembered seeing a crying Olivie a little while ago. And she was still crying as she stumbled with the knights a little further ahead of them. “Is she hurt? Did that knight hurt her?”
His expression had gotten grimmer. “Let’s talk about her later.”
When they got to the edge of the garden, some of the other knights were waiting.
She was assisted into a wide coat for the trip. Another knight approached and reported to him that the carriage was at the ready and the other men were loading a third coach with baggage.
“Lady Adalene will alight on the smaller carriage and we’ll ride ahead. Let us go, *ma bichette*,” Fabian ordered again.
“Yes.”
She let him lead her out to the carriages, lowering her face to hide from the staring eyes of the guests on the ground.